Every Glistening Night

Chapter Six

A hand jostles my shoulder. My eyes fly open to Audrel standing over me.

"I'm sorry to wake you, Celisae," she says, her voice lilting, almost like a lullabye. "I know you had a late night."

Three, actually, I correct her in my head.

"But if I let you sleep in too late, then your schedule will get off. Come, first meal is nearly over."

I rub my eyes. A drowsy cloud hangs over me, dulling my senses. I teeter on my feet and quickly comb my fingers through my hair.

"I'll let you change," Audrel says. "You're still in last night's clothes."

My blurry vision clears for an instant, focusing on Audrel. I snap awake. She hovers over the wooden chest in the furthest corner of the cave. Fear picks up my heart's sluggish pace. If she digs too deep, she'll strike gold — that is, the golden sunlight from last night. Then again, some may also consider the raeriel to be a precious find if they want me to be exiled from the tribe. That's not even mentioning the apple and berries from two days ago. Surely those would also arouse suspicions.

"Here you are." Audrel hands me a clean tunic to wear along with my bag for gathering flowers. "I'll let you change."

I duck behind a sheet hanging in the corner of the cave, removing my robe and slipping the tunic over my head. The tan weave forms a box around my frame with only a slight inward curve at the waist. I hurry into the sunlight, squinting against its brightness. Only a few stragglers remain on the fractured cliff, and the cooks are in the process of cleaning up. I force myself into a jog to reach a girl about my age.

"Sorry I'm late," I say. "Is there any left?"

A man with graying hair nearby smiles. "Of course." He dips a ladle into a porridge made of corn and dolls it generously into a stone bowl. "That was a lovely performance you gave last night."

Warmth floods my cheeks, as does delight. "Thank you," I say shyly.

"You really had the energy going," a boy says, smiling down at me as he carts away the remaining corn porridge. I beam, but he's already gone before I can formulate a proper reply.

I take my seat at the edge of the clearing, shoveling corn mush and berries into my empty stomach. Strength flows into my muscles. An artificial clarity sharpens my mind from the sugars I ate. Afterward, I head into the forest. We're still low on dyes, especially the purple dye that comes from usple flowers. I offered to collect some more yesterday, and Jeayma m'ke enthusiastically said yes.

Herb and shrub gatherers litter the forest. I steer clear of their paths, heading deeper and deeper into the endless trees. I haven't the slightest idea of how I'll find my way back, but that's a problem to deal with in several hours.

As I walk, I scan the trees I pass, or as many as I can within the split second I spend walking by. No more marks speak to me, broadcasting my betrayal of the tribe. Still, I don't plan to make my usual trip to Mother today. It's too risky, for both her and myself. I have to lay low for a bit, blend into the tribe. Her safety is more important than my promise to refill her water and bring food.

Maybe I'll sneak away tomorrow. I sigh. Gathering days are best for slipping away. Even on weaving days, I can use the excuse of nature stimulating my creative process. It's more difficult on days when I'm making dyes, like tomorrow.

Fragmented explanations try to formulate in my head, but each carries far too many questions that are liable to be asked. My shoulders sag. I may need to sneak out again by night. The thought fills me with dread, but it's the only solution I foresee.